So Now You Know
by The Wuzzy
Summary: It's not Remus' fault that Sirius is always getting into trouble. And it isn't Remus' fault that Sirius is just plain irresistible. In fact, they just can't keep their hands off each other. Even when they're in public. Even if the last person in the world they want to find out might be watching... A fluffy oneshot on a rather awkward encounter, inspired by the Shoebox Project.


So Now You Know

'Sorry, what exactly did you do again?'

Sirius looks for all the world like he is honestly confused. 'Me? I didn't do anything. This was your fault.'

Remus would be feeling his jaw drop right now if that wasn't literally the answer he'd been expecting.

'I was just trying to eat breakfast, and then there was McGoogles yelling at me to go straight to her office,' Sirius says, flicking his ridiculous fringe from his eyes. 'I've no clue what she wants.'

Remus scowls. 'Don't be a prat. It's not exactly like _I'm _going to have done something to get her knickers in a twist, is it?'

'Well, I dunno,' says Sirius breezily. 'She might be about to make us both prefects.'

The distinct sound of a snort comes from a painting to their left. 'It was him,' says one of the fat, chess playing wizards when Sirius glares at him, accusing a rootling hog in the adjacent picture frame. 'I wasn't mocking, honest.'

Remus takes a deep breath and tries not to think about the charms class he is missing right now. 'So now our infamy extends even to the castle furnishings. Sirius. What. Did you. Do.'

'Fine!' Sirius throws his hands in the air. 'I squirted three cans of shaving foam down Malfoy's trousers. Then he jinxed me. So I hexed his pants with a permanent shrinking charm. Madame Pomfrey had to cut him out of them, but he's going to be squeaking like a pygmy puff for the next week, I made damn sure of it.'

'And I'm implicated in this _how?' _splutters Remus.

'Don't hit me,' Sirius mumbles, tugging gently at the side of Remus' jumper until Remus bats his hand away, 'But I used your shaving foam.'

Remus groans and leans his head back against the wall. 'You're intolerable. And don't pull that face, it's getting you nowhere.' He looks away, because unfortunately Sirius is pulling exactly the sort of face that normally gets him _very_ far, extremely quickly. 'As soon as McGonagall gets here, I'm dumping all of this in your lap since it's about time you started taking responsibility for your actions.'

'Stay,' whines Sirius, 'Pretty please? Don't leave me alone with McGoogles. She's sexy when she's angry, but that doesn't make up for the general terror.'

'No,' Remus slaps away Sirius' arms where they've been sneaking round his waist. Sirius moves round so they face each other.

'I'll tickle you,' he says darkly.

'Piss off, I'm not ticklish,' Remus says.

Sirius leans in slowly and Remus feels his entire body spark like a wire. 'You will be,' Sirius whispers, warm breath brushing Remus' ear. Sirius lurches forward, fingers digging into Remus' sides and forcing their way under his shirt, and Remus hears a half growl half laugh tear from his lips. Then somehow they've tackled eachother to the floor, laughing breathlessly, both struggling to gain the upper hand.

'Children these days,' grumbles the painting.

'I'm bigger than you,' Sirius grabs Remus by the shoulders and straddles him, teeth flashing in a grin.

Remus whips up his hands to grab Sirius by the wrists, flipping them both over and pinning Sirius' arms to the floor over his head. 'Doesn't matter. Werewolf strength, remember?'

'So you like it on top, do you Mooney? I'll bear that in mind,' Sirius' smile is positively sinful, dark hair tangling in his eyes.

'Shut up, you,' says Remus.

Sirius half heartedly attempts to wiggle free. 'So, are you going to let me go then?'

'Not really,' says Remus lazily, 'I prefer you like this.'

'What, submissive, helpless and pinned to the floor?'

'Exactly,' Remus grins.

At first all Remus is doing is gently pressing their mouths together. But then somehow Sirius has worked his hands free and is tangling them in Remus' hair, dragging him down.

Remus makes a noise that is probably highly inappropriate for their surroundings.

'Dear lord,' says the painting.

Sirius' hands work their way under Remus' jumper, starting to undo his buttons. 'Not in the middle of the corridor, for god's sake,' Remus tries to say, but the words get lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth, which is currently occupied biting Sirius just below the ear. No really, they need to stop doing this in the middle of the floor – then Sirius rakes his fingers down Remus' back and what was he trying to say again? It can't have been that important, what's far more important right now is the feeling of Sirius starting to grind against him –

He hears a loud cough and with horrifying clarity Remus remembers where they are. He looks up to see McGonagall intently studying a tapestry displaying the ancestry of Golgod the Rancid further down the hallway.

'If you're quite finished,' she says stiffly, without turning around.

'McGoogles,' Sirius says redundantly, panting slightly. 'Shite.'

Remus awkwardly rolls off Sirius and stands up slowly, wondering if he can hex the walls to come crashing down on top of him. At least that would hide how his cheeks are burning hot enough to fry someone's breakfast.

McGonagall turns to face them, face surprisingly impassive. Remus is impressed. That is, he would be impressed, if he wasn't too busy wishing he was dead.

'Um,' says Sirius, lost for words for once. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and face flushed, and Remus refuses to look at him, because Remus is going to stare at the floor for the rest of his life, thank you very much, because maybe if he stares at the floor for long enough it will start feeling sorry for him, and helpfully swallow him up.

'Delighted as I am to see your friendship progressing so smoothly,' McGonagall says, sweeping past them to the doorway of her office, 'For the sake of common decency I expect you to refrain from conducting any amorous activities in public in future.' She turns around, regarding them both. 'For heavens sake, think of the first years. Or I will have to give you both detention.' She pauses. 'Again.'

'Yes professor,' they both mumble, although Remus can't muster the ability to be glad that she hasn't simply executed them on the spot.

'In my day,' remarks the painting, 'Young men never behaved in such a manner…with other men.'

'That will do, Fergus,' says McGonagall loudly.

'Well then,' she continues as she leads Sirius and Remus into her office. 'It's time we discussed your _other_ latest misdemeanour. Madame Pomfrey informs me that Lucius Malfoy will be singing soprano for the next fortnight.'

Remus sighs, and resigns himself to a week of cleaning trophy cabinets. There's no way he's even going to _try_ and get out of this one.


End file.
